


A Blast in the Bubble

by 1f_this_be_madness



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: 2020 NHL Playoffs Bubble, Although it's mostly Dougie being outwardly affectionate, Basically everyone calls Svechnikov some iteration of 'kid', Boston Bruins, Carolina Hurricanes, Chara deserves a decking almost as much as Marchand, Friendship, Gen, Justin is about to fight, MacAvoy could use one more though, Major Character Injury, My First Work in This Fandom, National Hockey League, Nicknames, One Shot, Protective Aho, Rod Brind'Amour is the coach we need but don't deserve, Soft Hockey Boys, Team as Family, This author isn't happy with tonight's game lemme tell you, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:14:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25945681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1f_this_be_madness/pseuds/1f_this_be_madness
Summary: A tangle of limbs isn't the best thing, though sometimes it isn't even an intentional hit, simply a side-effect of tightly focused play.(Or, a look at what happened to Andrei Svechnikov on the ice this past Saturday August 15th)Contains descriptions of injury and pain
Relationships: Carolina Hurricanes Ensemble & Andrei Svechnikov
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30





	A Blast in the Bubble

Skating across the ice as swift as a fish swims through water, eyes on the puck whilst slicing, echoes of skates and calls from around the ice and on the bench flow around him; he shares a glance with Seabass, facing left of the goal and feeling the cool kiss of chill air over the ice, tinting all their cheeks and getting that energy up even as sweaters and pads keep them warm. He's flying, cutting sharp until his right leg gets caught, foot locked in place by an enormous black skate.

White-hot and heavy, antithetical to everything he had felt before, a burst of agony sends his right knee, his entire leg shooting sideways as his skated foot remains in stasis.

Andrei Svechnikov drops.

The winger crumples, curls - cannot even brace himself at the shock as his body thuds into the ice. Skates slice away, a whistle blows. Whooshing sound and slight spray of ice pellets pinging off his face mask and striking his lower, flushed features mix with the sweet iron taste of blood. He'd bitten the inside of his cheek from the pain shooting along his leg and into his foot as he fell. 

Then familiar skates appear in his line of sight and a hand lands on his shoulder, light beard and warm concerned eyes above, gentle voice murmuring "Svech," he hears, and tilts his head, sees blurs of lights and shadows and frigid blinding ice. And then a face. 

That face is one he'd seen so often recently over an enormous leg cast, laid up but as present as possible as it was for him to be. He knows this man will understand the pain, as well as the sick curling terror that nearly makes him retch because nyet, no, he can't be hurt, he has to play, he's got to do this, be here for his teammates, his brothers, they're in the playoffs and need him now! "Kid, you all right?"

The question shakes him to sharpness as he tries to shift, to check, clutching both sides of his knee as he remains on the ice, unable to move more than to curl and clutch. "Don't know, D," he manages to gasp at his teammate, squeezing his eyes shut as tears threaten after the taller man pats his shoulder and instantly stands upright to call and beckon for a medic. Adding in a softer voice as he hears the booming of announcers, "It doesn't feel good," he grits.

Dougie Hamilton nods. "Bet not," he says, looking over to a round face with large eyes as near Svechnikov skates Sebastian Aho. The two are close, both on and off the ice, and hang around together. They are a couple years apart in age, both incredibly fast. Sebastian is not quite as physical a player, is a bit smaller, faster, and he feels helpless after his friend is hit. 

Wasn't even a hit, exactly, reflect the players around as the left wing spits some epithets in Russian whilst the trainer skates over and kneels to briefly check him out. He keeps on shaking his head. 

"Gotta get up kid. I've got you, come on." Hamilton, recently returned from a horrendous leg injury of his own, even as an enormous defenseman, bites his lip and prays this won't sideline the kid. Though it does not look good, as he has to bend and haul Svech up, the shorter man leaning heavily on him as Dougie wraps one arm around his neck. 

It seems a futile hope for Andrei not to be hurt badly; Chara, the guy who'd gotten tangled up with him, is absolutely huge - even by Dougie's six feet seven standards - and had been after Andrei, playing right up on him, crowding him ever since Svech got a little rough with MacAvoy after the Bruin got him with an elbow to the face last game. Totally understandable; looking over at the bench as they skate back, Dougie sees Justin's eyes burning over the smoky grey hue of his beard. He knows their captain would like nothing better than to vault over the boards and drop gloves to go for the enormous Bruin who'd downed Svech, but they're running out of time on the clock in this game.

Dougie focuses back on Svech as the smaller, younger man speaks in his heavily-accented voice, asking for help to step up off the ice. The defenseman feels his heart go out to the scrappy twenty-year-old who is clenching his jaw and moving quickly as he can even as his leg obviously pains him. 

"Sure. I got you, buddy," he wraps his gloved hand tighter around Andrei's shoulders as the medical trainer braces his opposite side. Aho had been hovering but skates off the ice faster than the three of them, looking back to check on Svechnikov. Gameplay resumes in short order.

***

So much of Andrei's weight is on Dougie's side as they reach the bench. Justin Williams holds the door open for them, still furious but also worried; his face crinkles a bit as Svech unbuckles his helmet and rips it off his head in a fit of pique. Slaps the young man's shoulder as their coach steps closer. 

Rod Brind'Amour does his best to remain impassive for the cameras and his players' sakes - nobody needs a second scandal dealing with a Hurricanes authority figure - but his sharp dark eyes are full of concern. "That was a hard fall, kiddo," he speaks in his brusque but caring way, a constant from when he was a player himself. "How're ya feeling?" 

Hamilton can feel Svech tense. Myriad emotions flicker across his face, from frustration to pain to fury and mounting terror. "Not my best, Coach," he finally says softly. 

Brind'Amour nods and his eyes flick to Dougie's. "It looks bad," the defenseman admits, and Rod's head drops. With Doug's experience with a drastic leg injury of his own, the hockey coach takes Hamilton's opinion as a very valid one. "I'm getting him to the dressing room before I head back out," Dougie speaks as if there is no possiblity of dissuading him and his coach softens even as his jaw works. He nods again. 

"O.K. Take care of him." Rod speaks thus to the defenseman and the trainer as they both remain bracing their bodies on either side of Svechnikov, and the trio hears him venting his worry by snapping for Aho to get his ass back on the ice. 

Sebastian spares another glance of encouragement and concern back at his friend whilst skating away. 

At the sight of Andrei hobbling with help down the tunnel, the Carolina Hurricanes all thump their sticks for him and receive a sobering reminder that, even with how hard they work and how much they love this game, the ice can be unforgiving.

**Author's Note:**

> My heart sank as I watched this game, I really hope Svechnikov is all right. 
> 
> This is my take on what might have happened to him, as someone who has suffered a painful knee injury of my own.
> 
> Comments appreciated :)


End file.
